


damned if I look back

by ilfirin_estel



Series: the free!verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Blasphemy, Brief Torture, Civil war in Heaven, Fallen!Castiel, Free!verse, M/M, Paradise Lost references, Post Swan Song, Violence, amnesia!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilfirin_estel/pseuds/ilfirin_estel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death holds no dominion in Heaven. (It is so very far to fall.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	damned if I look back

Heaven is made up of a series of seas. It is a vast, endless network—seas of water, seas of sand, seas of grass, seas of stone. Open sky all around. Light, warmth. No mountains, no hills. No trees, save those in the Garden.

He should flee to the Garden. But the reason why it is the one safe place left in Heaven is the same reason why Castiel cannot bring himself to go. No one on either side wants the war to touch that sanctuary. Even Raphael wants to keep the Garden pure—though he will burn everything else back down to dust to achieve his vain dream.

If the world is barren and broken, if there is nothing left except for smoke rising from scorched, silent fields—Father will come back.

 _Burn it all down,_ Raphael cried out to his followers, the angels of the new Rebellion. _Nothing matters anymore with Father and Michael gone. Destroy everything, and Father will come back to us._

Maybe He will. But Castiel did not think it worth the cost. Every day and night spent fighting in Heaven, Castiel thinks of Dean. He holds on to what Dean taught him. There is value in life; life _matters._

Castiel wishes there was more time—time enough to tell Dean that he is who Castiel is fighting for. Sometimes it seems that Dean has always been who Castiel has fought for. But there is no time to confess that. Castiel flies across the sea of stone, every muscle in him straining desperately away from the enemy pursing him.

Despair clings to the back of Castiel’s throat, dark copper and salt. So much of him was changed by falling, so much of him holds onto human senses, emotions, and associations. Despair tastes like his vessel’s blood in his inhuman mouth.

He will not die if caught. Death holds no dominion in Heaven. Death cannot touch Castiel here. But he remembers the Breaking of the Seals, remembers when his brothers tore him out of Jimmy Novak and how he broke at their hands, how they reconstructed him into what they thought would remain an obedient soldier. It seems long ago, but the memory of how he begged for death, begged for an end to everything as long as it meant an end to the pain—it fills him with shame.

He risks a glance back and knows there isn’t any hope. The force behind him outnumbers him considerably and they are gaining fast. He casts his gaze forward again and sees a figure standing where the sea of stone meets the sea of grass, the Elysian Fields of gold and green.

Hope sparks and flares—the small snap of Dean’s cigarette lighter—because the angel is one of _his,_ a soldier of the Reformation, Abdiel.

It takes a split second for Castiel to see Abdiel’s deep cuts and bleeding grace. The flame gutters and dies. The choices presented now: either to keep pushing forward and bring the Rebellion’s soldiers’ wrath upon both himself and Abdiel, or to fall back into the enemy and pray that at least Abdiel will escape.

Castiel plummets out of sky to land, skidding across sheets of grey stone. He whirls around to face the Rebellion, wings flaring in defiance.

Before the enemy descends, before they overtake him, he hears Abdiel screaming his name.

Castiel. _Captain._

He charges forward to meet the enemy. He doesn’t look back.

-

If there’s anything worth dying for—

His screams shake the stones beneath them. Cracks spider-web into the pools of his wounded grace.

If there’s anything worth dying for—

Raphael is laughing as Castiel thrashes against the weight of the five soldiers pinning him down.

Today you’re my little bitch.

Jophiel stands at Raphael’s side, Eldest beside Archangel, his sword encased in holy oil and flame.

What is worth saving? I see nothing—

Zephon carves into Castiel’s form, sharp teeth glittering like smashed glass. Uzziel sings as Castiel’s bones are shattering, his voice spewing mockery—broken captain, friendless captain.

I see nothing but pain here.

Castiel is not begging, Castiel is not asking _them_ for mercy. They are ripping into him, but he does not cry out to them.

You won’t win.

_Domine, miserere nobis._

I still serve God.

Raphael snarls his orders. Jophiel moves at his word. One of the Eldest, one of the brightest of stars now merely a puppet of an archangel. The flaming sword is swinging.

Father. Father, please—

Freedom is a length of rope.

The edges of his wings are burning, fire licking through dark feathers—the black feathers that forever mark him as one of the fallen.

In Paradise, all is forgiven.

Skin scrapes away, raw upon the ground as he is dragged to the edge of Heaven, the cliff edge looming downward. It is so very far to fall.

He does not beg for death. He begs for silence. He begs for peace. No one is listening. There is no hope. There is no salvation.

Despair tastes like blood on his tongue, on his teeth.

It is so very far to fall.

He tells himself the fire will not consume all. There will be something left. He will not be rendered to ashes and dust.

He is a broken star descending. He tears himself in two.

The ocean of the earth swallows him. His last thought is of Dean.

I did all of it for you.

Dean—

-

“Castiel. Your name is Castiel,” says the man with green eyes, the man in the chair next to the patient’s hospital bed, the man whose name is Dean. _Dean._ It’s the first thing he’s remembered. The first puzzle piece sliding back into place.

“Castiel,” the patient repeats. A name. His name. He weighs the syllables in his mouth. “Cas-ti-el.” He can’t stop smiling. “It fits. Much better than James.”

Dean. Castiel. Dean and Castiel. It’s right, it’s all right. Everything is going to be all right.

“How did you find me?” Castiel asks, and he is weeping, but Dean is too. Dean is clutching his hands like he’s something precious, something _found._

“Cas,” Dean says. “Cas, I dreamed of you.”  


**Author's Note:**

> This was written mainly for [](http://janie-tangerine.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://janie-tangerine.livejournal.com/)**janie_tangerine** ’s prompt: 8th Dec, SPN – Dean/Castiel, _I dreamed of you_. Which, knowing her, is an ASOIAF reference. This is a prequel/companion to Free Until They Cut Me Down, which you can find as the second part in the free!verse series on here.
> 
> The names Abdiel, Zephon, and Uzziel are from John Milton’s _Paradise Lost_ , which I highly recommend to anyone who is interested in angels. (Abdiel, in particular, is kick-ass!) Jophiel is not from _Paradise Lost_ , but apparently is sometimes known as the angel that guards the gate of Eden with the flaming sword.
> 
> The title is a quote from Seamus Heaney’s “The Underground,” and is also a little reference to a line of Dany’s in ASOIAF: “If I look back, I am lost.”


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